Through My Eyes- The Diary of Sarah Frobisher-Smythe
by dlouc
Summary: Her parents dead, her days spent hidden away from the world by the man that killed them. Sarah's life isn't easy. But nothing could prepare her for the years to come. Because being hidden away is nothing compared to the hell Europe becomes. The diary of Sarah Frobisher-Smythe from 1936-1945. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Part One: Locked Away

Part One is rated K+. There are a few difference between this story and the show. For one, Sarah is not born in 1915, but instead in 1924. Victor, who Sarah refers to as Jr., is not born in 1915 but 1921. Also, both of Sarah's parents are murdered in 1930, not 1920 (and Robert is murdered, not frozen).

August 5th, 1936

There are things in life that will change everything. They define who you are, who you will be. Some are gradual. And some can happen in a single moment. A moment that changes your life forever.

For me, my whole life was derailed the moment Victor decided my parents shouldn't be alive.

And no one even cared. No one cared what happened to them.

He took me away, and once again no one cared.

No one.

He wanted to know where the cup Mummy and Daddy hid. He wanted me to break my last promise to them. But I would never tell. So I was kept locked away. My freedom had a price, he would always tell me. A price I was unwilling to pay. And so I have lived my life for the past few years, hidden away from the world.


	2. Chapter 2

August 9th, 1936

If it weren't for Jr., I would surely go insane. He kept me updated on everything in the world. The Olympics are going on now, in Berlin. Jr. told me about the events, and the ceremonies, and this crazy guy who lived there named Hitler. But mainly he told me about Jesse Owens.

Today was the happiest I've seen him in a long time. He came skipping down the stairs yelling at the top of his lungs. He quickly filled me in on Jesse Owens' victory in the 4x100 relay. He told me how he had left everyone else in the dust, and how old Hitler wouldn't even look at him afterwards. Oh and how he laughed at how humiliated Hitler was. The more I heard about this Hitler guy, the less I liked him.


	3. Chapter 3

November 21st, 1936

I would be in school now if… if I was normal. Instead, I spent the day wandering the House, looking for a book I have not yet read. As I was digging through a stack of old newspapers I found what would become my most valuable possession. It was a small portable radio no bigger than my hand. But it was my only connection to the real world. Jr. don't talk to me as much. He says he has too much school work. I think he is avoiding me. Victor has been stocking the old bomb shelter again. I think he is overreacting a bit, but Jr. seems freaked out by everything. I think he is just trying to please Victor.

I don't know why I am still writing. I thought it would help me pass the time, and it does. But it forces me to relive all those moments of loneliness. I hate it. I hate this stupid journal and my stupid life. I hate everything.


	4. Chapter 4

August 24th, 1939

It's been almost three years since I wrote in this last. I was just being silly then. It's my life, I better learn to live with it. Jr. had been drifting farther and farther away. I was so scared I would lose him. But he came back, just like he always does. And for one wonderful year everything seemed to work out. My situation didn't get better. But Jr. was always there for me. I think I love him. I know I shouldn't. He's leaving for Oxford in a week. Then he'll be out of my life. I might never see him again. I'll be so alone, so terribly alone. I keep trying to push it out of my mind. I can't think about it! Denial, I guess. But it's better than nothing.

A lot has changed since when I last wrote. I read over it, and found myself laughing at my old self. Oh how foolish I was back then. How oblivious I was to everything. "The more I heard about this Hitler guy, the less I liked him." No shit, I want to yell to myself. I never understood why Victor and Jr. were so worried. They heard the stories. The stories that I chose to ignore.

Jr. is scared. I suppose I am too. He turns 18 soon. Tomorrow, actually. Conscription is back. He'll have to register. I keep telling him that there isn't going to be a war, but he doesn't believe me. I don't know if I believe myself either.


	5. Chapter 5

September 1st, 1939

I am alone.

Sitting on the windowsill, listening to the radio and writing. The radio shares nothing new. It has been the same for months. It is only a matter of time before everything blows up, just like 1914. I don't want to believe that.

Jr. hasn't been around very much. He leaves for Oxford soon. He was supposed to leave a few days ago, but Victor didn't let him for reasons unknown.

These days are always the longest. And the loneliest. Sometime I just wish that my li


	6. Chapter 6

September 2nd, 1939

Germany invaded Poland yesterday. When I heard it on the radio, I was too shocked to do anything. I can't stop worrying. But England isn't involved yet. My only hope.

September 3rd, 1939

Today was very odd. Victor didn't pay much attention to me at all. He didn't even notice when I ate a second serving of hot cereal that morning. All day, he sat in front of the radio (on a low volume, of course, so neither Jr. nor I could hear), listening intently while frantically scribbling something down on various sheets of paper. A letter had arrived for Jr. last night. Whatever it was, when Victor read it (as he often did of Jr.'s mail) he had slammed the letter down on the table with such force it had knocked the vase over, causing it to smash. Victor didn't even notice. He rushed to his study and spent most of the night on the phone while pulling out old maps, looking over each one intently. People have been stopping by all day today, leaving letters, small packages, and more maps for Victor, which have been piling up on the table.

I finally got to my room to listen to the radio.

I could hardly believe I had missed so much in a single day. Europe had erupted into war almost overnight. All the radio reported on was the war. Another Great war, as if the one wasn't enough.


	7. Chapter 7

September 10th, 1939

I woke up to find the house empty. Victor and Jr. are gone, no sign of them. All their things were gone when I got up.

I had walked downstairs, expecting to see Victor their, staring scornful at me. I expected to be roughly dragged back to my room, and as punishment, not have a thing to eat the rest of the day. But the hallway was empty, as was the living room.

The table was littered with papers. Various maps and articles. In the corner of the table was an opened letter addressed to Jr.

**_ORDER TO REPORT FOR INDUCTION_**

**_To Victor Rodenmaar Jr._**

**_Order No. 10643_**

**_Greeting:_**

**_Having submitted yourself to a Local Board for the purpose of determining your availability for training and service in the armed forces of Great Britain, you are hereby notified that you have now been selected for training and service in the Royal Navy._**

**_You will, therefore, report to the Local Board named above at Liverpool, Merseyside L1 1JJ, United Kingdom at 6:30 AM, on the 11th day of September, 1939_**

Now it all made sense. The packages, maps, various papers. Victor and Jr. had left, probably in the middle of the night, because Jr. had been drafted. I could feel my heart break. I remember just falling to the floor, lying there for hours. He was gone, he was really gone. He could die any day, be blown from this planet. I don't know how long it was until I heard the front door open. I shot up, almost ran to the hall, expecting to see Jr. standing there, but it wasn't him. It was a man and a woman. I didn't recognize them for a moment, until I realized I had seen them before. In an old photograph with my parents.

They were my godparents, Aunt Izzi and Uncle Gustav. Mum used to tell wonderful stories about all the adventure she and Dad went on with them. But no, I knew them from somewhere else.

It was him. The man with the gun all those years ago. Uncle Gustav was the man with the gun. The one that Victor led straight to my parents. And Aunt Izzi. She was there that night as well.

They are far more cruel than Victor ever was. They have tried relentlessly to get me to tell them where the cup of Ankh is. Finally they gave up and threw me in the attic. I was able to sneak back down and get my things, but they found me out and now they lock me in. At least I still have my journal and radio.


	8. Chapter 8

September 17th, 1939

Invasions, bombings, other war crap I don't care about. Repeat. That is an entire days worth of programs on the radio. I'm so lonely, so I listen to take my mind off things, except is never works. No matter what I do, I'll still be in this lonely attic with empty wall and empty floors. Just so empty. All the time. It's been a week and I'm already going completely insane. Maybe if this stupid war ends then I'll be free. Jr. will come home and Aunt Izzi and Uncle Gustav will leave forever. I'll never have to see them again. I'll leave and never come back, just run.


	9. Chapter 9

October 2nd, 1939

October 19th, 1939

I

It's so lonely. Writing is the only way to pass the time, but it makes me think about everything that is going on. I would rather just be in denial.

October 31st, 1939

Today is Halloween. I get to spend it locked up here in this horrible attic. Oh joy.

As far as the war, things have seemed to quiet down a bit. Attacks have turned into threats and demands. Germany seems to have forgotten England even exists. This could be just a down time, but I really do think that Germany is losing steam. At least I hope they are. Maybe then I'll be free.

November 5th, 1939.

The Soviet Union invaded Finland. But other than that, the war seems to be going nowhere. Poland still hasn't surrender, though they are getting beaten badly. Germany is acting as if they already surrendered. It seems like this whole war is just sitting.

I don't even care about any of it. It's just something else to take my mind off things. Maybe I can try to find a map, keep track of things. Trying to remember everything is killing me.

November 6th, 1939

Aunt Izzi heard my radio going this morning. She flipped out. Went through the entire attic and basically cleared it out. I hid my diary under my blouse, but she took everything else. I'm almost too afraid to write. If she comes back and takes this too…

My diary is all I have left.

November 15th, 1939

I don't want to keep this diary anymore. I don't want to remember any of this. Because one day I will get away from everything, I will finally be free. I never want to return here. I just wish I could forget it all. Sometimes I can. Some mornings I wake up, thinking I'm in my old room, and my mother will be in any moment to call me down to breakfast. I miss those days, I miss being able to go outside. Feel the sun on my skin, the wind through my hair. Before Victor and Aunt Izzi and Uncle Gustav. Before this dreadful war took Jr. from me.

December 21st, 1939

I really didn't want to write, but the days have been so long and filled with nothing but sorrow. The attic is now always cold. I had hoped that Aunt Izzi and Uncle Gustav would have let me stay in the house. I shouldn't known better, of course. But hope had gotten the better or me. A car just pulled up in front of the house. Aunt Izza and Uncle Gustav are leaving. I can't remember I've been alone in the house.

I picked the lock and snuck downstairs. I should have left. I should have run away as fast as I could and never have looked back. But I decided to look around the house instead, and enjoy the warmth of the fire places. I spent a good half hour curled up in front of the fireplace before noticing that Uncle Gustav's office was unlocked. I crept upstairs, though I have no idea why. No one was home. The office no longer contained Victor's old instruments and odd solutions. There was just a simple desk piled high with papers. The wall was empty, except for a framed photo of a smiling boy who didn't look much older than me. I began rifling through the papers when I came across a certificate.

A certificate of adoption. I was legally the daughter of Aunt Izzi and Uncle Gustav. I didn't think. I just reacted. I started running. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. I ran out the front door, only to run into Aunt Izzi. She grabbed my arm and hauled me back up stairs while I screamed. No one heard me.

I think they put a padlock on the door.

December 29th, 1939

Yesterday I lost my mind.

In a fit of desperation I threw myself at the window, hoping that it would shatter, sending multi-colored glass everywhere. I didn't even care if I fell through. I thought anything was better than the attic, even death,

Aunt Izzi came running up the stairs only moments later. She threw me to the wall, holding me down as I screamed, flailing around hoping to hit her. Uncle Gustav was running up the stairs in a matter of seconds, and the two of them dragged me downstairs and locked me in a closet. I kept screaming and banging on the closet door for hours. Some time later, the closet was thrown open. I had been anticipating this, and threw myself out the door and into the hall, ready to run for it. But Uncle Gustav must have been anticipating this as well, and I was quickly struck down by a cane. I jumped back up, ready to run the other way when he struck my temple and everything went black.

By the time I opened my eyes, I was in complete darkness. I was lying on the cold attic floor. The window had been boarded up.

January 8th, 1940

I haven't seen the sun in days. Writing is now nearly impossible, it's always so dark. The days are melting into nights and all becoming so twisted I can hardly believe I can keep them straight in my head anymore. It's Saturday today, or maybe Sunday. Wait, yes, it is Sunday. I could hear the church bells some hours ago. Or was that yesterday? Could it be Monday.

It doesn't even matter. Nothing matters, really. Because no matter what fucking day it is I'll still be stuck in this fucking attic

It's not like cursing will help anything either.

Nothing will help me now.

I guess I'll just sit here until I fade away completely.


End file.
